Nightlock
by Rolling Down A Hill
Summary: What you are reading is my memoir, my story. My name is Sariel Nightlock, and I am a Cleric; a priestess of Corellon. My story is neither pleasant nor unpleasant, it simply is; and it is as follows.
1. The Birth of a Priestess

_The Birth of a Priestess_

Light; that is my first memory. The utter brightness of it, piercing through my closed lids. My next memory is realising I am laying in the grass, and then the realisation that I do not know how I came to be in the grass, or how I came to be anything at all. I sit up and open my eyes. I am seven years old, and the only other thing I immediately know about myself is that my name is Sariel, and I am very hungry. I stand up and take in my surroundings. I am in a meadow. There are flowers all around me, bluebells mostly. Bluebells are my favourite flower, some part deep inside of me remembers. They are starting to wilt with the onset of autumn. The meadow is quiet, aside from the chirping of unseen birds and the growling of an empty stomach. I am alone.

What you are reading is my memoir, my story. My name is Sariel Nightlock, and I am a Cleric; a priestess of Corellon. I shall not keep anything hidden; and what is told will be the truth. My story is not unpleasant; however it is not pleasant either. It simply is. And it is as follows.

My seven year old self, practically an infant in the eyes of my race, sets off in an unknown direction, hoping to find someone who can tell her who she is, why she was in the meadow, or give her something to eat. Hopefully, they can do all three. I remember that this is when I realised I am not wearing any shoes, only a plain white shift that comes to my knees. It was very cold. I shivered and wished I had a cloak. I decided to walk for a while, not noticing where I am going. Eventually, when it is nearly dark, I stumbled into something of a clearing, as it was void but for a very large tree at its center. The tree looked big enough to house several people inside of it. Upon a second glance, I noticed that the aged tree trunk had a door, and that a blue flag with a silver star was hanging from one of the many branches. It was very pretty. Without a second thought, I ran toward the tree. Only when I was standing before it did I hesitate. I did not know who or what was inside. They could be the person responsible for all of my confusion, or they could be the person with all of the answers. But, before I could think past that point, the door swung open. Inside a tall, hooded figure stood brandishing a longsword.

"Who goes there? Declare yourself and your business or I will run you through!" From the sound of the voice, the figure was male. He was shouting at me. I started to cry.

"M-my name is S-s-sariel. I d-don't know w-what m-my business is. Please d-don't kill me!" Thinking back on it, I am surprised that I was able to say even that much, as terrified as I was.

The man then stepped into the light. From his facial features, I could see he was Eladrian, and advanced in his years. He was wearing blue robes and silver circlet, and there was small crescent moon tattooed to his forehead. This was the garb that would come to mean so much to me in the coming years. He spoke to me again, in a much gentler, hushed tone.

"You are not a spy of Lolth; that is for certain. Come in child; welcome to Traquis. Let me get you something warmer to wear. You will catch your death of cold! My name is Throdaril Aeraloth, but I did not catch yours. What do they call you?" I stepped into the tree. I could see it was not a house, as I originally thought, but a temple. I did not know which god it favoured at that time. I was simply grateful to be out of the bitter cold, as night was beginning to fall. In my most grown up voice, I replied to the priest, which he must be because we were in a temple, that my name was Sariel.

"Just Sariel? What is your family name? Who do you belong to, sweet one?" I replied that I didn't know, that I had woken up in a meadow this morning and didn't remember much before that. Throdaril furrowed his brows. What happened next decided everything that I would come to be. He performed the first holy magic that I can remember witnessing. Opening the door and stepping outside, he cried something that I did not understand. The wind suddenly picked up, and a cloud of flower petals flew toward him, twisting and turning into the shape of a female Eladrian. He then told the petal-elf that he had found a young Eladrian girl named Sariel, and to go to Minathwin Tinuron of Tyual and inquire if anybody was looking for her. The petals nodded, and then sped off toward the east. Throdaril came back inside.

"How did you do that?" I asked, awestruck.

"Magic, my dear. Would you like to learn?" he answered with a sly smile upon his face.

"Oh yes! Teach me Throdaril Aeraloth!" I shouted excitedly. This elf had spoken to flowers, and they had understood! I instantly wanted to know everything this magic man could teach me.

"Well Sariel, I can teach you, but I think we should wait to hear back from Minathwin first. She should reply by the morning. I think we should get you to bed, little one. Follow me".

Throdaril lead me to the back of the temple where there was a small room with a cot and wardrobe inside. He told me that this would be my room until I no longer needed it. He gave me the candle from his hand, and bade me to find something to wear inside the wardrobe whilst he fetched me some supper. Upon his return he carried a plate of bread, cheese and grapes, gave it to me with a smile and wished me goodnight. After he left, I pressed my ear hard against the door, hoping to hear more magic. Instead, I heard him praying. The door muffled much of the sound, however, so I was only able to catch four words. Four words of the utmost significance. The four words that would define my future.

"Hei-Corellon shar-shelevu".


	2. Sahandrien

_Sahandrian_

The next morning, I was awoken by soft knocking on my door. Throdaril entered my room.

"Good morrow, sweet one. How was your night? I hope you slept well. I have received word back from Minathwin. Please get dressed and meet me in the temple, we have things to discuss." I hastily dressed myself, wondering what news he had received.

Upon opening the door of my room, I gasped. The room I was currently standing in was more beautiful than any I had ever stood in before; some foggy part of my memory informed me. In the dark of the previous night, I had not the thought to look around the temple I had crossed. It was magnificent. I could see now that we were inside the tree, and that someone had taken the time to carve windows into the trunk, so that the beauty of the glade outside was prevalent. The walls of the room were sanded down so that they appeared bleached white in colour, although the exterior and ceiling of the room were dark mahogany in colour. Paintings of beautiful scenery graced the walls here and there. Pews of light cedar graced the middle of the temple, all adorned in blue sashes. The altar was the most stunning piece, however. A combination of mahogany and swirling silver patterns, it held a single item; a longsword. I could see that it was simple in design, but deadly sharp.

"That is Sahandrian. Or a replica of it, I should say. Every temple of Corellon Larethian has one. The real one is mixed in there somewhere. We do this to keep it hidden from those who would want to take it, namely the Drow. It is said that Corellon himself crafted the original from the ore found inside of a star. Only the previous and current head Clerics of the temple holding the original know its exact location. Would you like to hold it?" Throdaril said this as he stood behind me. I jumped, startled. He had walked so quietly I did not hear him approach. He lifted the sword off of the alter and held it out to me. My hand was almost too small to wrap around the hilt completely. When I had fully grasped it, the sword started to glow dimly; a sweet, soft golden colour. It had not done this in Throdaril's hand. I looked at him, not sure if I should be afraid. The expression on his face was as though he had just been told something he already knew, but did not necessarily believe.

"I thought as much. Please, place the sword back on the altar and follow me." Turning on his heel, he walked off to a set of circular stairs that I had not previously noticed. They seemed to be carved out of the tree itself. Climbing the stairs, I wondered what was on the higher levels, and resolved to explore them later that day. After a short climb, we reached a landing. I was standing in one of the many branches of the tree. It was carved into an almost perfectly round room, aside from the area where the staircase protruded from the floor, and kept going into the ceiling.

"This is the kitchen. You can eat whatever you like, as long as you make enough to share" Throdaril said with a smile. "Have a seat. Let us talk."

I sat down at the carved wooden table. More cedar, I recognised. I wondered where the variety of different wood had come from; there were so many different shades and grains of it everywhere. The kitchen was very homely. Clean and warm, with a fireplace burning off to one side. Throdaril cleared his throat.

"Sariel, I am afraid to inform you that when Minathwin replied to my petal messenger, she had no news. She has said that she would send the instant she heard anything, but for now, you are unclaimed. I am sorry I have nothing more for you in that respect." I nodded. I did not feel sad at this news; how can you feel sad about something you do not remember? He continued:

"I have a preposition for you. I am getting further in my years, and I have no sons or daughters to take over the guardianship of this temple once I pass from this plain. I would like to train you to take my place. You would have room and board here until your training is complete as well as food, clothing and anything else you could possibly need. There is something special about you, Sariel. Never in my near four centuries have I seen the sword glow in the manner it did when you held it. I hope you will accept my offer. Think about it." With that, he left.

I sat in the kitchen, blankly staring at a tiny ladybug that was crawling along a leaf outside the window. Me, a priestess? Could I do that? Devote myself to a god? Even as a child I knew the weight of this decision. It would be difficult. But Throdaril had been so kind to me already, should I not repay him by fulfilling his request? Besides; how difficult could it be, really? But then, my decisions in everything I did would not be purely for my own good, but for the good of this god as well. Did that matter? On and on these questions came to me, and often I did not have an answer. As I was deliberating, I watched the sun move in its steady pace from east to west. Only when it had nearly set did I remember the magic. If I became a Cleric, I would learn magic. I could speak to flower petals and they would listen. Who know what else I would be able to do? Suddenly, the decision was clear. I would agree to Throdaril's request. I would become his prodigy, his replacement when the time came. I would serve the god of music, magic, arts, poetry and warfare. I would serve Corellon Larethian.

I stood up, intending to find Throdaril. My body ached from sitting in the same position all day. I climbed the winding wooden staircase, meaning to search every level until I found him. This was relatively easy, as he was only one level above me in the, for lack of a better word, library. There were shelves that wrapped the entire way around the circular room. Books in every subject imaginable made the room smell in that old parchment way. Throdaril was sitting with his nose in one of these books, reading intently. I cleared my throat. He glanced up from his reading, that sly smile upon his face once more.

"Throdaril Aeraloth, I've decided. I want to become a Cleric, if you'll teach me." His smile widened.

"Well then, first things first; you must stop using my full name. It makes me feel old." I giggled. He continued; "Also, you must learn to speak properly, Sariel. Commoners use words like I've and isn't, not Clerics. From now on you must say both words, as is proper of someone with the level of education you will receive." I smiled. I loved to learn, as far as I could remember.

"We must get you different robes. From this point forward, you will wear the azure and silver of a Cleric of Corellon. When you finish your training, I will have a circlet made for you." I nodded once again. The robes he was wearing were much prettier than the ones I had on anyway. Placing a page marker in his book, he rose from his chair and made his way toward the stairs. As he was walking he continued to speak.

"We'll get you them now. As of this moment, you are a priestess in training. You may call me by my first name, as we will be sharing the same living place, but when we have visitors you must address them formally. Can you do that?" I nodded. There seemed to be so many things to agree too.

We climbed the stairs for one more rotation. I was beginning to wonder just how many levels this tree had. It seemed never ending. This room seemed to be an armoury. Chests, wardrobes and baskets filled to the brim with armour of all shapes and sizes, weaponry that looked sharp enough to cut through stone, and longswords everywhere. In one of the wardrobes Throdaril found robes that were small enough to fit me. After he handed them to me, he held something else out for me to take; a dagger. Small, curved, almost delicate looking, it had a hilt in the shape of the crescent moon. I hesitated.

"Now Sariel, I need you to promise me something. Promise me you will never let this dagger out of your sight. Always keep it somewhere where you could access it easily. I will teach you how to use it properly in the morning, but this dagger must never leave your side. You may need to defend yourself." Throdaril said this with the gravest of looks upon his face. I took the dagger from him.

"Who do I need to defend myself against, Throdaril? Is somebody going to hurt me?" How young I was when I asked this question; so innocent in the ways of this world. It was this that led me to the discovery of my new mortal enemies, the Drow, and their immortal spider queen Lolth.

"Do you like fairy tales, Sariel? I have one that you should know..." Throdaril explained that long before our ancestors were even thought of, Corellon had a consort whose name was Araushnee. She was the very opposite of Corellon, the dark to his light. She was worshipped by the elves who shared her beautifully dark features, known as the Drow. He loved her, and she betrayed him. Paring up with the deity of the Orcs, whom Corellon had battled previously, she intended to take over the home plain of Corellon and many of the other gods. When she failed to take over Arvandor and was captured, he banished her to the Abyss. There, she took the name Lolth, and to this day her followers, the Drow, are seeking revenge on her behalf.

"Sariel, these Drow will not care that you are only a child. They will kill you sooner than looking at you. You must not hesitate to act before they do. If you see a Drow warrior, you must kill them before they kill you. Do you understand?" The intensity of his gaze told me that not understanding was not an option. I nodded once more. It seemed that being a Cleric was not only about magic. In the coming years this revelation would become a constant thought. Quickly I learned that being a Cleric of Corellon was not anything like I had expected, and everything I did not expect. I revelled in every moment of it.


End file.
